It's 2057...

[snurtifier]

I'm trying to persuade my care robot to let me have a glass of wine, still struggling to get used to the taste of locust burgers. Apparently I don't have enough social credit since it overheard me being rude about the CCCP. Never mind, I'm glued to Elon Musk's live stream from Mars. Who knew that building a whites-only city in space would be so hard, eh.

What are you up to?

I'll have starved to death 15 years earlier due to refusing the microchip implant for religious reasons and then being unable to buy food. After spending a few weeks trying to survive on twigs and pebbles, as all insects have died out, death comes as a welcome release from the insanity.

Instead of being buried as my religion demands, my body will be sent to a meat processing plant to be made into pet food. Only younger people are suitable for processing into food for fellow humans.

I’ll be 83 and if I’m not already dead I’ll be on my way to the government funded/council run self termination pods to kill myself in the morning. I expect by that time they’ll even be offering compensation to descendants if the over 70’s euthanise themselves.

75 years young, we regularly look after the gran children, one from each son born in a lab with no need for pregnancies or births.

No one is overweight due to amazing pills that only need to be taken once a year that balance everything out and make you crave iceberg.

Cliff Richard just performed at Glastonbury, which is now in a cruise ship as half of England is now under water.

No. Everyone will have a government issued alcohol of choice to survive the mess. 5 litres of gin per adult per month or alcoholic equivalent.

Dead, hopefully

DH is outside tinkering with the jet packs. The kids are grown but will be beaming in for dinner later. I am still staring and swearing at our printer wondering what the fuck it's problem is.

Sweet

I’m 75 and still paying off my mortgage